


3/4/17 (1:21 P.M.)

by thelonelywriter



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Love, Poetry, Prose Poem, in general, there's not much to tag here, ya know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 14:13:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12060648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelonelywriter/pseuds/thelonelywriter
Summary: It starts with untying the memory of you. Over the months and years and minutes, the ones we’ve had apart, the ones I’ve spent missing you, the ones I’ve spent hating you, all of those have curled around me. They’ve twined through and around my being like a vine that hasn’t been tended to in far too long. Part of me thinks that you haven’t been tended to in far too long.





	3/4/17 (1:21 P.M.)

**Author's Note:**

> awhile back i posted some original work and looking back, it's pretty bad. in my eyes. and i know that one day i'll look back on this and think it's bad. probably. because i'm still trying to grow as a writer, and when you grow, the things you leave behind sometimes seem inferior. so have some inferior writing.

3/4/17 (1:21 P.M.) - It starts with untying the memory of you. Over the months and years and minutes, the ones we’ve had apart, the ones I’ve spent missing you, the ones I’ve spent hating you, all of those have curled around me. They’ve twined through and around my being like a vine that hasn’t been tended to in far too long. Part of me thinks that you haven’t been tended to in far too long.

Untying the memory of you is difficult. My fingers are shaky, I can’t help it. My fingers fumble, they aren’t nimble like they need to be. The knots of you that have settled in my stomach, they’re tight, they’re not undone easily.

The shape of you is hard to pin down, what with the way you’ve woven yourself around me. But somehow, it feels like I still know it. As though I can still touch you and remember the curves my fingers followed, like braille. It’s a delusion, but nonetheless it’s there.

I work for hours or days, maybe minutes, I have no clue, on the act of untying the memory of you. Trying to divide you from me, to put a space between us, it’s not as easy as I had hoped. It feels like all of you is suffocating me, curling around me so tightly that my vision goes fuzzy. Curling around me so tightly that all I can think, breathe, see, is you. Just you.

I thought that maybe if I tried hard enough I could finish off the act, that I could untie your memory and you would fall around me like loosened ropes or defeated vines. I thought maybe I could walk away and breathe deeply without you lingering. I think I miscalculated something along the way. Because you’re still around me, and I can still remember your curves, like braille, etched into my fingertips. I can still remember your eyes, even if the vision is hazy.

You’re never quite gone, and I don’t think you ever will be. You’re like a habit I can’t quite, a vice I stand by. You’re a rope I can never really untie.

**Author's Note:**

> please tell me what you guys thought, i wrote this as a random entry in an untitled document awhile back and i just want to know what you guys think about the style and such. thank you so much for reading though, my original work isn't as popular as my fan works


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